


Sage and Kite and really sad

by legalgood



Category: Redwall Series - Brian Jacques
Genre: F/F, Gen, Grief/Mourning, a heck ton of grief, near death by frostbite, near death by starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2016-07-06
Packaged: 2018-07-21 23:59:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7410361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legalgood/pseuds/legalgood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the battle, Lancejack Sage stays on, moves around, and never forgets who she lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sage and Kite and really sad

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally posted on [my tumblr](http://rangapaw.tumblr.com/post/146121814445/sage-and-kite-and-really-sad).

Sage glared angrily at Kite’s grave through her tears. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She and Kite were going to travel, once the fighting was over. Kite was going to ask Skor, and she was going to ask Captain Rake, and they’d go adventuring together a while, helping goodbeasts and dealing with the bad.

Sage and Kite had got along famously after the competition betwixt the hares and otters had died down. Still, both she and Kite had performed small feats of one-upmanship, Kite swiping the ground with her axe and tossing a bunch of flowers to Sage in one swing, without breaking stride, Sage weaving them into a crown, and placing the flowers on Kite’s head.

She missed Kite’s smile already. She asked for a few more months at the abbey, and Captain Rake granted the request readily.

“Would’ye like a full h’escort back tae th’ mountain?” The captain asked kindly. Sage shook her head. She was sleeping in the gatehouse when the Long Patrol left Redwall.

Sage stayed on at Redwall Abbey for several seasons. It was winter when she left, despite the protests of the abbeybeasts. During her sojourn there, she had eaten little, spoken less. She had visited Kite’s grave every day, and stood there a moment, face scared and stoic. Her paws shook as she laid the flower crown upon the headstone. It was only outside the gates that she let herself cry openly.

Sage climbed up a tree when she could no longer walk, and fell asleep, no longer worrying about keeping watch. If any ill should come t’ me I’d welcome it, she thought. A short while after she had closed her eyes, a shape ambled off the path, and slumped down at the base of the tree. The sun went down, and Sage and the shape slept.

\----

In the morning, Sage nearly fell on top of Dorka Gurdy on her way back down the tree. The gatekeeper was snoring uproariously. Silently, Sage made her way around the slumbering otter. She had just cleared the trunk when a muscled paw grabbed her ankle.

“You fergot yer provisions,” Dorka said, handing her a rucksack.

“Thanks,” Sage replied, her voice horse from lack of use.

“Don’t mention it.” Dorka smiled, and hefted her own pack onto her back. “So, we off to the badger mountain or what?”

“I…um…was hoping t’ go alone.” Sage’s voice sounded foreign in her own ears.

“An’ what if ye get lost? ‘Tis a cold winter, an’ ye shouldn’t be travelin’ on yer own.” Dorka stepped onto the path, and peered at the sky. “This way,” she said, turning back into Mossflower Woods.

“Wouldn’t the path get us there, eventually?”

“Oh, aye, it would, but ‘s too cold out on the path, an’ I know my way ‘round these woods. We’ll get you to Salamandastron.”

“I…thank you.”

\----

The first buds were peeping from under the snow when they made it to the shore. Dorka stayed at Salamandastron for a night or so to get new supplies for the journey home.

Lady Wildstripe let Sage take her time returning to her duties on the mountain. She was on sentry duty until further notice, and no longer participated in activities on the mountain. The next fall, Captain Rake requested that Sage be a part of the regiment heading up to the High North Coast. Sage protested, but a gentle order from Lady Wildstripe sent her on her way.

“Lancejack Sage reportin’ for duty, sah,” Sage said, exhaustion evident in her voice.

“Glad tae ‘ave yer aboard.” Captain Rake put a paw on Sage’s shoulder. “Thankee fer comin’ along. Ruggan Axe’ound’ll be glad tae see ye.” Sage nodded, and her eyes darted up to meet Rake’s. The black furred hare hugged Sage deeply before sending her off to her cabin.

The journey passed without event. The weather was fine, but by the end of the trip, Sage found that the winter cloaks they had been instructed to pack were certainly necessary.

Ruggan Axehound met them on the beach. The big otter clasped Rake’s paw in his own. “Good o’ you t’ come, Captain.”

“Nae trouble at all, Axe’ound,” the hare replied smoothly. “’ow’s yore pa?”

“Ol’ Skor’s doin’ just fine. Probably stuffin’ his face with fish right now. ‘ow’s the Badger Lady?”

“Och, she’s fine.” The hare and the otter made small talk as they wandered towards the campfires.

Sage found herself sitting to the right of Ruggan Axehound at the large round table. As she picked sparingly at a salad, the Rogue Crew otter spoke up.

“Hello, you’re that Lancejack that Kite was friends with, right?”

“Sage,” the hare replied in a small voice.

“That’s right. Pardon my forgetfulness. You two were close, eh?” Sage nodded. “T’morrow mornin’, if you’d like, I’ll take you up to the ridge where Kite liked to sit. She thought too much sometimes, and other times…she didn’t think enough.”

Sage placed a paw on the otter’s shoulder, and the pair looked at each other, tears brimming in their eyes.

Ruggan had to rise to give a speech to the visiting hares, but beside that, he talked quietly with Sage most of the evening. Sage’s responses were limited to one word, or nods of the head, but the otter didn’t seem to mind.

Sage was already sitting outside her tent when Ruggan went to get her in the morning. He took Sage up to a high ridge overlooking the bay.

“I’m glad ‘er last few days were spent in such good company.” Ruggan spoke softly, as if unwilling to break the silence of the sunrise. “An’ she died fightin for Redwall Abbey, a noble an’ just cause if I ever saw one.”

“Shouldn’t ‘ave died at all,” Sage muttered bitterly.

“It’s okay t’ be angry at ‘er. I get angry at my mother all th’ time, and she’s been dead a score o’ seasons already.”

“I am angry,” the hare admitted. “Angry that she didn’t think.”

“She was an aggrivatin’ lass, to be sure. Thought too much when she didn’t need to, and when she needed to, didn’t think at all.”

“Exactly.”

“She liked you too, y’know?” Ruggan sighed. “I liked Kite too, many seasons back. Tried to give ‘er flowers, an’ she flat out rejected me in front o’ the crew.”

“She gave me flowers, once.”

“I’m sorry, Sage.” The hare did not respond. “Should I ask someone to bring you some breakfast up ‘ere?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Captain Rake brought two trays of food up to the ridge a half hour later.

“Cap’n, is the Northern Division of the Long Patrol still functioning?” Sage asked. The black furred hare looked taken aback by the question.

“We’ve got a Northern Division?”

“Says so in th’ old records, sah. I’d like to go up to the mountains and check.”

“Ye’ll be wantin’ an escort?”

“No, sah.”

“Should I tell yon Badger Lady when tae expect ye back?”

“I don’t know when I’ll be back, sah.”

“When’ll ye be leavin’?”

“Just after breakkist, sah.”

The hares sat in silence for some time. When Rake finished eating, he took both trays, and left Sage still sitting by the ridge.

Ruggan Axehound handed Sage a rucksack without a word. She nodded her thanks, and then sped off north as fast as she could go. Once out of sight of the camp, she slowed down. It was going to be a long, long day.

\----

By the end of the season she had made it to the foot of the mountains. She decided to wait until spring to try to climb them. Carefully, she dug around in the riverbed, and was able to fashion a mud hut. She collected as many berries and apples as she could, and hoped that they would be enough to get her through the winter.

Sage made it through to spring, but her body was thin and frail. With the few provisions she had left, the hare set off up the mountain. On the third day, she blacked out, and awoke in a bustling cave.

“Ye a’ight there, lassie?” A mountain hare asked.

“Pardon me, sah, is this the northern division of the Long Patrol?” The mountain hare looked surprised.

“Noone’s called us that in many a season, but I reckon tha’ we still are.”

Sage tried to sit up, and was pushed back down by the firm paw of an otterwife with a friendly face.

“You just sit still, dearie, an’ we’ll ‘ave yer up an’ ‘ealthy in no time.”

Sage lay back, and let the world happen around her.

In less than a week she was back on her paws, which were calloused and worn, but no longer bleeding.

“Sage, dear, so nice t’ see ye walkin!” The kindly otterwife, who, Sage had learned, was called Fira, grinned at the hare. Sage smiled back; the otterwife’s good humor was contagious.

“How’s our young lassie doin?” Colonel Rey Wutherbloom, a tall, open-faced hare asked, striding into the room.

“She’s doin’ just fine, Colonel. Still don’t talk much, but that ain’t no bother t’all, s’long as she makes ‘erself understood,” Fira replied, clearing away Sage’s bowl and spoon.

“Thank you for the soup, miss,” Sage said softly, and Fira grinned so wide that Sage was worried that she might hurt herself.

“Yer always welcome, Sage dear.” Taking the crockery with her, Fira sailed out of the room.

“Where’re ye ‘eaded, lassie? Or rather, where were ye ‘eaded, afore ye nearly died on yon mountain?”

“Might sound strange, sah, but I was tryin’ to find you.” Sage’s voice still had a faint scratchy quality, and it still sounded strange in her ears.

“Find mah good self, lassie?” The colonel’s eyebrows shot up.

Sage offered a small smile. “Not you specifically, sah. Th’ Northern Division o’ the Long Patrol.”

“Ah take ‘t yer from th’ main branch, down by th’ shore wi’ at th’ ol’ badger mountain.”

“That’s right, sah.”

“Why were ye tryin tae find us? Is there somethin’ wrong at th’ mountain?”

“No, sah. I just needed a change of pace. If you’re not called the Northern Long Patrol any longer, what’re you called, if you don’t mind my asking, sah?”

“We’re th’ Mountain Marauders, lassie!” Colonel Wutherbloom announced proudly. “An’ welcome aboard,” he added, holding out his paw.

“Thank you, sah.” Sage grasped the colonel’s paw tightly.

\----

After many months in the mountains, Sage grew restless once again. Saying her goodbyes to the Colonel, Fira, and the rest, she made her way back down the mountain, and turned towards Mossflower. She wasn’t quite ready to return to the shore, to Salamandastron.

The journey to Redwall Abbey was uneventful, apart from one memorable dinner with the Fortunate Freepaws and the ferret they had adopted, who was turning out to be quite the gentlebeast.

Dorka opened the east wallgate for her, and she slipped in quietly. A feast was going on, in honor of the defeat of the Wearat. It had been two years, and so much had happened to Sage since then.

Sage sat in front of Kite’s grave, and cried softly.

“You weren’t supposed to die!” she screamed. “We were supposed to go adventuring and you would give me flowers and I would make you flower crowns and we’d fight for those who couldn’t and we were supposed to be happy!”

“Miss Sage?” Posybud, who had grown up considerably since Sage had seen her, shifted her paws in the dirt awkwardly.

“What is it, young miss?”

“Posybud,” the hedgehog replied, tugging on her spikes apprehensively. “Are you all right, miss Sage? You’ve been cryin an awful lot since you’ve been here.”

“I…” Sage paused, faltered. “I’m not all right, Posy. I…I miss Kite. She…was very dear t’ me.”

“I can tell, miss.” Posybud smiled, and Sage found herself offering a small smile in return. “C’mon, there’s some leftovers from the feast in the kitchens, let’s see if anyone’s awake to help us prepare some food.”

Sage hesitated, and Posybud’s smile grew wider as she added, “If you don’t, I’ll get the dibbuns to take you to the kitchens.” The twinkle in the hogmaid’s eyes belied her threatening tone. Sage took the proffered paw, and was pulled to her hindpaws.

“D’you think there’s any of that damson plum tart left?”

“I certainly hope that there is!”

\----

“Lancejack Sage, is that you?” Major Felton Fforbes blurted, starting up from his place around the fire. The hare was old, gray patches of fur spread across his body.

“Aye, sah,” Sage responded, holding herself straight as she could in the presence of an officer. Captain Rake appeared from the gloom with fish on his plate, and nearly dropped it in shock at the sight of Sage. Ruggan Axehound stood up and embraced Sage. His craggy features hadn’t changed much, but there was new sadness and worry behind his eyes.

“It’s my pa,” the rugged otter explained. “His health’s declinin’, an’ there’s nothin’ to be done about it.” Sage hugged Ruggan tighter. “Shall we take supper up to the ridge?”

Sage nodded, and the pair ambled off.

A few weeks later Skor Axehound breathed his last. Heavy sadness hung upon the encampment. Ruggan and Sage sat on the ridge and did not speak, but there was understanding between them. After a few seasons, the hares made their way back to Salamandastron, excepting Sage, who stayed on for a good many seasons, until she was old and gray.

 

Sage sat on the ridge one morning, and told Kite about her plans. “This’ll be th’ last time I see this ridge. I’m goin to Salamandastron to pay my last respects to Lady Wildstripe and all the good hares of the Long Patrol, and then I’ll be off to the Abbey. I’ll ask the abbeybeasts to bury me right by you, and I’m sure Posybud’ll see that it gets done. I ‘ear Ruggan Axe’ound huffin and puffin up the path, so I’ll end this ‘ere. I…I ‘opes I see you soon, Kite,” Sage added softly.

“You ready t’ go to the Badger Mountain?” Sage quirked an eyebrow.

“I thought I was goin alone.” Ruggan laughed.

“Travelin’ all that way alone, at your age?” the otter said jovially. Sage elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oh, fine, as long as you’ve got the vittles, and as long as the Crew’ll be all right in your h’absence.”

“Dreel’ll take care of that lot, so don’t ye be worryin!”

Sage smiled, eyes crinkling, face lined with wrinkles. “I won’t.”

\----

They made it to Salamandastron in record time, and were met by a full escort. A feast had been laid out, and the hungry pair fell upon the spread with gusto. Lady Wildstripe spoke to both of them in her forge room, and in a season, both Sage and Ruggan were on their ways, the former to Redwall, and the latter back to the High North Coast.

Abbess Posybud met Sage at the gates, and they sat together in the kitchens, laughing and demolishing the remains of a damson plum tart. In a low voice, once she was sure the other beasts had all gone to bed, Sage whispered hoarsely, “Within a week, Mother Abbess.” Posybud sighed, and clasped Sage’s paw firmly.

“You are a true friend, and a true Redwaller. Thank you for returning to us.” She did not say thank you for coming here to die by her side, but Sage understood, and nodded.

“You’d best get some sleep. You’ve got an abbey to run in the mornin’.”

“Aren’t you going to sleep?”

“No, Mother Abbess. I rarely sleep any more. I can sit in the badger’s chair in Cavern Hole and sleep there if I can manage t’ stay still for a few moments.”

“All right, just call if you need anything, Sage.” Posybud mounted the stairs up to the dormitories.

“Thankee, Posybud. Sleep well,” the old hare called.

“Try to get some sleep, famineface,” Posybud joked.

\----

Lancejack Sage died of old age a couple of days later. She was buried next to Kite, and a bush of the laterose was transplanted between their graves. Abbess Posybud, after the other abbeybeasts cleared away, gently laid a flower crown on each grave.

the end.

**Author's Note:**

> Epilogue:
> 
> As Sage passed through the Dark Forest gates, she was enveloped in a crushing embrace, and the smell of flowers.
> 
> “I missed yer,” Kate breathed into Sage’s shoulder. The hare hugged the otter tighter.
> 
> “I missed you too.”
> 
> Smiling, Kite brought forth a flower crown, and placed it carefully on Sage’s head.
> 
> “This is one that you made me.” She indicated the similar crown adorning her head. Sage’s eyes welled up with tears, and she hugged Kate, who dropped a light kiss between the hare’s ears.
> 
> “C’mon,” Kite said, tugging gently at Sage’s wrist. “We’ve got a lifetime of adventuring together to catch up on.”
> 
> Sage, smiling wider than she had ever smiled, followed Kite’s lead, and they romantically strolled off into the eternal Dark Forest sunset, with their fingers laced together.


End file.
